


Go Spin Circles For Me

by electroniccannibalism



Series: Of Wings And City Skies [3]
Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Wings, Gay as hell, M/M, Ryden, Wingfic, Wings, Wings AU, brendon cant be trusted to do anything, there is a lot of the word 'fuck' in it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 02:17:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7415404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electroniccannibalism/pseuds/electroniccannibalism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What are all the questions for? You never ask me anything about my wings,” he asks. I shrug.<br/>“Just wondering,” I reply lamely. He raises an eyebrow.<br/>“Well do you want to find out what its like?” He asks. My breathing hitches.<br/>Oh god yes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go Spin Circles For Me

“Bren, what is it like to fly?”  
Brendon lifts his gaze to meet mine, his glassy eyes suddenly flooding with consciousness. He ponders the question for a moment, sinking into the hard metal chair across the table to me.  
“Flying is just being up in the air to be honest. It’s like being on a swing, but without the actual swing,” he replies with a slightly sarcastic, and leans forward onto the table, briefly pushing his brown hair off his ridiculous forehead before letting it fall back again.  
“Oh, okay,” I reply simply, casting my gaze downwards to my fingers tracing the lines on the table. I can feel Brendon’s eyes following my movements intently, but I don't look up.  
“Were you expecting some sort of inspirational answer Ry? In truth, its really tiring and hard to see,” he grins, laughing sharply and spreading out his wings behind him. He flexes them out, and I know he’s showing off. I concentrate on the soft down feathers ruffling in the breeze, illuminating the brown flecks on his marbled grey feathers. I look past his wings for a moment, and see the faces of a disapproving group of middle-aged mothers with their children. I lower my head again, pretending to be interested in my fingernails again.  
“Are you ever afraid someone is going to hurt you because of your wings?” I ask, speaking into the table and not making eye contact. I’m not sure why I asked, I know the answer already: Brendon doesn’t give a shit.  
He never does.  
“I don't give a shit. If someone gives me shit about it, then I fight them back. They always run as soon as they see you can protect yourself,” he says cockily, briefly flashing an asshole grin before retracting his wings. He suddenly leans even further across the table, narrowing the distance between us to study my expression. I bite my lip nervously and he leans back again.  
“What are all the questions for? You never ask me anything about my wings,” he asks. I shrug.  
“Just wondering,” I reply lamely. He raises an eyebrow.  
“Well do you want to find out what its like?” He asks. My breathing hitches.  
Oh god yes.  
I nod tentatively.  
He points over to the paved walkway near where we are sitting.  
“Stand over there. Stay still,” he commands. I swallow and nod again.  
I drag myself out of the chair, my head spinning and my heart thumping. I walk a few metres, and stop.  
Just like he told me to.  
Brendon has already gotten out of his seat, and he’s standing down near the end of the street. He flashes me an excited grin, and I respond with a nervous one.  
I close my eyes.  
I hear the buys street, and the sound of feet pounding on the pavement. The wind rushes past me as I hear him take a run up.  
And then the sound is gone.  
And after the sound is gone, I feel a pair of rough hands grab me and the pavement falls away from my feet.  
My heart thumps as he slips his hands around my waist, the world spinning. He pressed me close to him, his grip firm to make sure he doesn't drop me.  
This is too much.  
“You okay down there?” Brendon asks, lightly laughing.  
“Y-yeah,” I respond shakily, looking down at the city below us.  
“Its okay man, we’ll be landing soon. You’re heavier than you look, you know,” he adds snarkily. I nod my head, even though I’m sure he wouldn't see it.  
Cars, people, buildings. Its an endless pattern from beneath us  
“See that building over there?” Brendon asks, referring to the tall, flat-roofed office block just ahead of us.  
“Yeah?” I reply  
“We’re gonna land there. It's one of my favourite spots,” he informs me, and I feel us dip towards the building.  
My mind was hazy.  
We near the building, and I can feel his grip on my waist slipping.  
His breathing became heavy.  
He’s never landed with someone before.  
He tries gripping harder around my waist.  
I slip away from him. I am weightless.  
He snatches up my arm, and I yelp out from the pressure on my shoulder.  
“Its okay Ryan! We’re just about there,” he says nervously.  
He’s not trying to convince me, he’s trying to convince himself.  
His nails dig into my arm, and he swings me backwards.  
I fly.  
I crash.

-

Blackened vision. Ringing ears. A dull pain in my shoulder. A constant screaming.  
“Ryan?! Ryan, oh fuck, please don't be dead. Fuck, fuck,” a series of expletives and my name mixed together is coming from above me. I suck in a breath of air and crack open my eyes.  
Brendon is crouched above me, his brown eyes wild with urgency and fear, his hair messed.  
There are feathers everywhere.  
I try to sit up, my vision spinning. Brendon holds me steady.  
“Oh thank fuck you’re okay. I-I thought I’d killed you,” he says. I’m still too stunned to speak.  
I go to push my hair out of my eyes, and my brow stings from the touch. I draw my hand back.  
Blood.  
He pulls a tissue out of his pocket and brings his face close to mine, intently trying to clean away the blood. I gaze at his face.  
His eyes are full of concentration, and his hair is moving in the wind, his cheeks slightly flushed. My gaze shamelessly moves to his lips, his soft, full lips, parted ever so slightly in concentration.  
I move closer.  
Brendon’s gaze moves from my busted eyebrow to my own gaze, and he lowers his hand. He looks surprised.  
A deer in the headlights.  
My nose brushes lightly against his cheek. He is still, his breathing becoming fast and erratic. Through my half lidded eyes I could see him tilt his head to the side slightly.  
Our lips meet.  
My body is suddenly full of sparks, and the whole world has fallen away. It is only us. Him and I.  
Brendon desperately moves his hand to the back of my head, pulling me in closer, our lips crashing together.  
Time stops for us.  
He moves his hand and moves back, our lips parting.  
Brendon sits back on the pavement in a stunned silence. His lips are swollen, and his expression was blank.  
I’ve fucked up.  
“I’m sorry,” I say. He shakes his head.  
“Don’t be. Don’t you dare apologise for that,” he says, sounding breathless. I bite my lip. He stands up and offers me his hand. I take it.  
“Well, would you like to go out with me?” Brendon asks. He doesn't look angry, more smug now.  
I laugh a bit.  
“I, uh, sure,” I respond. He grins.  
“Sorry about dropping you onto a building by the way, we should probably get you fixed up, maybe,” he says. I absentmindedly nod my head.  
He takes my hand.

**Author's Note:**

> this is like the side hoe fic of Just Like Paper Caught In The Wind  
> it basically happens a couple of weeks before the events of chapter 1


End file.
